


Kismat or Karishma

by Moraven



Category: Bamon - Fandom, Bonnie Bennett - Fandom, Damon Salvatore - Fandom, The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: F/M, Gen, Indian mythology - Freeform, Other, Set in India
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moraven/pseuds/Moraven





	

**Chapter 1**

**59yrs, 357 days,**

Her feet dangled from the branch. The anklets around them made a slight sound, a sound you would miss if you weren’t listening for it. Like a piece of thin cloth loosely hung and flying in the wind, her body swayed slightly from side to side, her face resting against the graininess of the banyan tree, her hands wrapped around the roots. Her eyes weren’t open but she was awake, the most awake she had been in the entire day which would be over in less than three hours.

“It’s going to be alright… I mean it’s not like I haven’t already died more times than I care to count. This time at least I’ll be with my family, and I’ll be safe. Not stuck as a ghost or in another dimension with Damon,” She paused. “Only Damon won’t be there. But that’s fine with me. We’ve had good years annoying each other…and loving each other. I couldn’t have asked for more. I’ve had a good life, and Damon will be happy to see Elena again… and our time together will be nothing but a cherished memory for him. I have that… we will always have that.”

Bonnie ranted to the tree, waiting for it to absorb it completely. Her words and the sentiments they carried now attached to the tree by the roots. Hung from the top most branch and didn’t bulge even when the wind tried to blow it. She thought to herself about what she had just said, thinking if she had anymore to add before she went to bed for the night. She knew the importance of this ritual to well to do it hastily or half-heartedly. The villagers sang the rhymes to their children every night to ease their minds and lull them to a peaceful sleep.

 

_Your mind is maze dark and deep,_

_A solitary place with its own secrets to keep._

_Dream and be fearless, open and free,_

_Don’t sleep on your thoughts, leave them to the tree._

 

And she needed peace tonight.

“Bani Memsaab…” a shivering voice called her name from below and she saw her Aaya standing, a little figure in her yellow cotton saree and maroon blouse which hung loosely at her arms, supported by the trunk of the tree. Even from up close, the old women, stooped at her spine with hardly any hair on her head, was no more than five feet tall.

The villagers had told Bonnie the story about Aaya’s hair. Back when she was younger, she went by the name of Neelamma and had jet black hair. Hair as thick as the roots of the young banyan tree growing in Bonnie’s backyard. She had two daughters, both in their teens and ready to be married. Aaya was the wisest of all the women in their community, she would sit under the banyan tree in the evenings, when the light was too bad to work and the air too suffocation to breathe in the house. Women would come to her from near and far, and cry by her feet, narrating their stories, seeking solutions from someone wiser than them. She helped every soul who came to her, offering them a glass of water and a piece of advice. A solution always given, never sold or traded. With every piece of wisdom, she gave away, one strand (sometimes half depending on the problem) frayed from the tip and turned white. Aaya’s daughters had watched their mother from the verandah, sitting at the banyan…watched their mother’s hair fray over time. This would worry them greatly. They would oil and massage Aaya’s hair every night, scrubbing it with desperate force as if trying to remove the white that had settled deep into each strand. But no matter what they tried, oil, herbal powder, hibiscus paste, the whites multiplied. By the time her daughters were married and sent off with their husbands, every strand on Aaya’s head was white.

Wisdom now fell and lay on the floor, one strand at a time, and Bonnie knew that Aaya would leave them the day she found Aaya’a last strand of hair on the floor. That would be a sad day for Bonnie. In all these years she and Damon had moved from place to place, travelling the world, both wanting to experience it with new and fresh eyes. They had made a promise to each other that they would not return home to Mystic Falls until the very last moment. Immortality and eternal youth had granted them that time together. But it came with a price. Though it was no concern to Damon, but Bonnie found it a struggle not to form friendships and connections. People would become suspicious with the unnatural activity that surrounded this beautiful young couple, or their life would run its natural course or they would simply become collateral damage to the chaos that would often follow Bonnie and Damon. That is not counting the odd people that Damon would take a serious dislike to, and just…bite.

But as hard as she tried Bonnie had grown close to Aaya. She reminded her of Gramps, and offered the steady connection that Bonnie craved, and though Damon denies it. He was fond of the little old women too.

They had arrived in India almost 11yrs ago, and found their way to one of the most beautiful villages in Himachal Pradesh. Malana, an ancient and isolated village in north eastern Kullu valley. Local legend has it that a tribe from Alexander’s army broke away and decided to make this beautiful valley their home.

The people where reserved and very protective of their customs but they accepted them with open arms… well Bonnie at least. They had garnished her with hibiscus necklaces, washed her feet with scented water and spoon fed her kheer, all she found rather perplexing and a little embarrassing at the same time. It was Aaya who explained Bani, as they pronounced it, was associated to Goddess Saraswati. With Bonnie’s arrival to their small village a 3-year drought had vanished with the beginnings of monsoon. They had felt a divine spirit had come to bless them. They greeted her as if she was the Goddess embodiment and Bonnie couldn’t help but aid them in their ailments and difficulties. For the first time… in a long time she felt at home. Here in the small mountain village of Malana, with Damon and Aaya, her teacher, by her side.

Bonnie jumped down from the tree, and led her Aaya inside the house. She oiled the little women’s hair and put her to sleep. She kissed her forehead and lay down next to her, their heads connected by the pillow underneath.

Sometime during the night Bonnie felt strong arms scoop under her sleepy form and lift her up against a solid bare chest. She turned her willing body into him and snuggled her face into Damon, as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hands delved into the thick denseness of his jet black hair.

“How many times have I told you to not knock heads with the old crow,” He teased softly. “You don’t want to wake up with a white mop on her head… or worse a mop that’s been oil rinsed its sell by date, Bon Bon.”

Bonnie laughed. “You’ll still love me,” she said with surety.

“Always,” he whispered against her mouth and claimed it in a hungry kiss.

He kept his mouth clamped on hers as he laid her down on the bed and began to rid himself of his remaining clothes, all the while watching her with that slightly hooded I’m-about-to-make-love-to-you gaze of his.

“Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” he asked.

Bonnie gave him a sultry look. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. “Should I?”

“You’d better, if you still want them to be in one piece.’”

A hot tingling sensation erupted between her thighs. “Aaya made this dress for me,’ she said. “I happen to love this dress.”

His eyes glittered as he came towards her. “I love that dress too. But I think you look much better without it.”

Bonnie shivered as he spun her around on the bed and released the knot at the back of her dress in one swift movement.

She tried to turn around but he laid a flat hand on her shoulder. “Stay where you are,” he said.

She felt that delicious shiver again as his erection brushed against her bottom. It felt hard and very determined. She gave a little gasp as he entered her in a slick hard thrust that made every hair on her head tremble at the roots. He set a fast pace but she kept up with him. Each rocking movement of his hips, each stabbing thrust, sent another wave of pleasure through her. All her nerves were jumping in excitement. She felt the pressure building to a crescendo. Even the arches of her feet were tensed in preparation. Her orgasm was fast and furious. It rippled through her, making her shudder in ecstasy. He emptied himself with a powerful surge that sent another wave of pleasure through her.

But he wasn’t finished with her yet.

He turned her and came down over her, his weight supported on one hand as he used the other to caress her intimately. She threw back her head and writhed in exquisite pleasure as he brought her to the brink before backing off again.

“Please,” she gasped as he ruthlessly continued the sweet torture.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you.”

“How much?”

“Too much,” she gasped again.

“That makes two of us,” he said, and took her to paradise again.

 

* * *

 

  **59yrs, 358 days**

 

Bani memsaab, Bani memsaab…”

Bonnie woke to the sounds of loud voices, calling out to her beseechingly. At first she thought it was a dream until one of them she recognised as Damon’s. She turned in bed to see him gone, leaving an indent in the pillow to show he had been there.

Bonnie reached out and grabbed her shawl from the bottom of the bed. She followed the sound of the voices, keen to discover who they were and why they were calling her.

“Bani memsaab,” a group of people cried when she appeared out on the verandah. Running towards her. Nearly knocking Damon out of the way. He still looked half asleep that Bonnie couldn’t help but smile at his bedazzled hair. She certainly made a mop of his hair by grabbing and running her fingers through it all night.

“Bani memsaab…please help us.”

The mob all cried and plead with her but nothing was making any sense. Help them with what. Hands reached out to grab her and if it hadn’t been for Damon’s vampire speed, they would have pulled her down to the ground.

_“Chup!”_ Damon yell. Standing in front of Bonnie.

The crowd grow silent by that one command. They may not like Damon because he was strange to them. With his hypnotic eyes, pale skin and unnatural speed, but the villages believed that those who associated with the Goddess, were surely made of good clay, and having seen Damon’s protective stance towards Bonnie, they believed he was her guardian, her shield.

“Sorry Bon Bon,” he whispered behind to her. “I was hoping to wake you up to something more interesting than a mob.”

Bonnie wanted to kiss him but all she could do was lay her hand flat on his back.

“Damon, go check on Aaya for me.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with these people.” Damon’s eyes darted between Bonnie and the crowd, weighing the odds of it being a bad idea.

“Please my love, check on Aaya then come back to me.” Bonnie gave him a gentle push with her hand still on his back.

“I have nowhere else to be but with you.” Damon turned to leave. Their fingers lightly touching.

Bonnie took a deep breath and walked down the steps of the verandah, into the yard, towards the banyan tree. The crowd quietly parted for her, bowed their heads as she passed in profound respect. She walked up to the tree and placed her hand on to its grainy bark. She closed her eyes and Aaya’s voice drifted into her mind like a soothing breeze, “Never forget all that I have taught you. I want my last piece of wisdom to go to you and no one else.” Bonnie nodded her head and promised as she had always done.

She took another deep breath and chanted,

 

_The banyan’s heart is in its root,_

_Naked and exposed yet strong and eternal._

_Learn from the wise one._

_Don’t hide your heart where_

_People get lost finding it._

_Wear it like the banyan._

She turned around and sat down amongst the trees strong roots. The villagers followed her example. Bonnie sense rather than saw Damon reappear on the verandah. Aaya was well and still asleep.

“Tell me,” she urged her assembly.

“Bani Devi….” The one Bonnie recognised as the bread maker raised himself slightly, with his hands on his heart. “Our children, memsaab. They have been taken…”

“Taken…all of them?” despite the warm morning air, a coldness seeped through her veins.

“They were playing as always by the fields. They were there, we heard then laughing. But then… then nothing.

“We searched,” the herd farmer joined in when the bread maker became too distraught. “The field, the river. No sign that they were there. But they are nowhere.”

“What about the neighbouring villages. Could they have gone too far while playing?” Even as she said this, Bonnie knew it wasn’t possible. They were deep in the mountains and the neighbouring villages were a day and a half’s journey away.

“No memsaab. It was the _Jinn_.” The men took a sharp intake of breath while the women covered their faces with their sarees and shawls, muffling their prayers.

_Jinn_ … Bonnie was familiar with the creature. Though she had never encountered it herself. Aaya had.

She had taught Bonnie that Islamic belief divided sentient beings into three categories. In order of creation, the _malayka_ (Angel), the _Jinn_ (hidden ones), and _nas_ or _banu adam_ (Humankind). Angels are made out of light, jinn out of fire, men out of earth. Angels are considered neither male nor female and have no free will. Jinn, like humans, are gendered, and have free will. This is why, in Islamic thought, Satan is a jinn, not an angel; it would be impossible for an angel to disobey the will of God. Jinn may be benevolent, evil, or neutral, but are generally regarded as less trustworthy and more prone to trickery than people, even if they are benign. Aaya had told Bonnie a story where in Egypt, there are thought to be female jinn who inhabit the canals and tributaries of the Nile and lure men to their deaths, much like sirens.

Locals believe they is one Jinn that lives high up on the foothills. They teach their children never to venture the path the leads to an opening towards mountains.

“He came down from the mountains and stole our children.” Cries rang out on what they had done to deserves this, the poor fates of their young ones, that they will be cursed forever.

“Please Memsaab, please save them…”

Bonnie was sceptical. Never in 11yrs had there been an incident where the local bogeymen had been to blame. But this was an old and cultured village. Deeply rooted in their beliefs, and Bonnie had seen Aaya’s magic enough times to push her scepticism aside.

“Listen to be. I will not rest until I have got to the bottom of this. For all the love and acceptance, you have shown me, I will not see you pain. Take my promise that no _Jinn_ will stop me bringing your children home.”

Cheers rang out. The men held her hands over their hearts and women reached out to kiss her hand. As Aaya would have done. Bonnie never let a single one leave without giving them something to drink and easing their fears with repeated assurances.

As the crowed departed in fearing but calmer minds than they came. Bonnie walked back towards the verandah where Damon was still sat on the porch, watching the whole thing. A bright grin playing on his face.

“Don’t smile my love,” she said, shaking of her head.

“You’d be smiling too if you knew what’s just happened here.”

Bonnie was perplexed. It was true Damon, apart from when it came to Bonnie and Stefan, didn’t let his emotions govern him. But these were missing children…

“You can’t be happy that innocent children have been kidnapped?” she looked at him stunned.

Damon’s dark eyebrows drew together and he looked up at her with a cool stare.

“That’s not what I mean. Don’t you see…we don’t…”

Bonnie waited but Damon didn’t finish his sentence. Instead he stood up, gave a stretch and clamps his hands loud in front of him.

“Right. Bon Bon dear. Breakfast then off hunting up a snow covered mountain for the bad, bad wolf. Another first for both of us I think. Come on…” and with that he walked off inside.

Bonnie shook her head. Then turned and looked over at the horizon. The peaks of the mountains stood visible and proud. In all her wars with opponents, this would be the first time the causality could become innocent children. But she had never failed to protect those she loved, and she was not about to start now.


End file.
